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The door wasn’t going to keep him out.
“Please, quickly, he’s trying to break down the door,” Aspen pleaded, reaching for my hand and pulling us both back against the far wall. “Yes. That’s the address.” They weren’t going to get here in time. I knew it.
Where was Simon?
And the other security person who was waiting outside?
“What do we do?” Aspen’s voice shook, her fingers digging into my arm.
“You ruined my fucking life,” he screamed through the door, the incessant banging getting louder, harder, and more determined. “Now I’m going to have to take yours.”
I thought he’d backed off.
I thought maybe Drake had managed to get him to see this fight wasn’t one he was going to win. Turns out he’s decided if he’s gonna go down, it’s going to be swinging.
“What are do we do?” Aspen whispered, tossing her phone to the floor, though I could still see it on hold. She stepped in front of me, her eyes full of tears, the strays that had already fallen leaving long black streaks of mascara down her cheeks. My own emotions were clogging my throat, making it hard to breathe, to think, to act.
Bang!
Crack!
Aspen and I both turned to see a large crack run down the door. That was it, the wood would give way any minute now.
“Grab something,” I snapped, reaching for the metal towel rail. We’d installed it ourselves, so I knew I could unscrew it.
Bang!
Bang!
The hard thudding I could now feel in my head. I knew even after this, I’d still be able to hear it. Still be able to feel it in my chest. I held the metal rod, pulled back ready to swing before looking over at Aspen who had armed herself with two bottles of mouthwash and a plethora of other liquids from the medicine cabinet.
“I’ll blind this bastard before he gets the chance to touch us,” she announced, though the liquid inside the bottles swished back and forth, even as she tried to be steady and confident. That was Aspen though, feel the fear, do it anyway.
And we were both scared as hell.
Crash!
The bathroom door splintered, part of it flying back at the hinges and the rest crashing to the floor. Emmett stormed in swinging, his arms flailing as he tried to protect his face from Aspen’s mouthwash attack. He powered through it, the back of his fist connecting with her cheek and sending her stumbling, the claw bathtub collecting her legs and forcing her to fall inside. Her head met the side of the hard surface, her body instantly going completely limp.
She was out cold.
“Aspen,” I cried, swinging the metal bar in my hands. He raised his arm defensively and let out a loud growl of pain when my bar drove hard into his forearm. I shuffled toward my friend, pulling back for a second swing, ready to protect her.
“You should’ve just admitted he didn’t deserve to die,” Emmett hissed, holding his arm close to his body.
“But neither did I,” I spat, twisting the metal in my hands. I sniffled, trying to fight the tears and instead embrace the adrenaline radiating through me, knowing that would at least help me fight. “He could’ve let me move on with my life. He could’ve just moved on with his. But instead, he came here. He came to my work. He told me that no one else could have me. It was him or me—”
His hand shot out, grabbing a fist full of my hair before I could react.
The pain was so intense, my knees dropped out from under me, and he quickly snatched the pole from my hands, tossing it over his shoulder and sending the products on the vanity tumbling across the floor.
Pain blurred my senses, making it hard to do anything but cry out in agony. I could feel the strands of hair snapping and being ripped from my scalp as he dragged me through the splinters of the door and out into the living room.
A blur of objects passed by, and I reached up and grabbed his wrist, digging my nails into his skin to try and get him to release me or at least stall him for a moment.
I couldn’t let this be it.
I needed to keep fighting.
